


Ours

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [8]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gen, M/M, POV Brian Kinney, POV Justin Taylor, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After growing disillusioned with Justin's dilapidated apartment, Brian insists that they find a place to call their own. They may have vetoed marriage and suburbia, but finding their own place together ends up bringing out a somewhat domestic side in them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really am absolutely terrible at writing things in the order they're actually supposed to go in. I started this story ages ago and it's taken some time to grow into what I wanted it to be, so I'm only just beginning to post it now. This actually fits in halfway through Immersion and follows Brian and Justin as they find their own apartment in New York and how they grow it from house to home. This is probably the last fluffy piece you'll see from me for a while... I have some angstier stuff planned for after this is done. Let me know what you think - I hope you enjoy it! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Justin are in pursuit of a new place. Will they find somewhere to call their own?

"This is the first place that will ever be  _ours,"_ Justin realises aloud, as he brings the hefty bag of take-out food and their drinks into the bedroom. He settles in Brian's lap and kisses him, then starts rifling through the bag to find the dumplings. "Fuck, I'm starving."

As Justin continues hunting through the bag, Brian leans in and starts dropping light, lazy kisses all over his neck. His hands cup Justin's hips and brush up and down slowly. There's a tiredness to it that amuses Justin; smiling, he kisses Brian's forehead.

He can certainly sympathise with the sense of exhaustion emanating from Brian. Even with their bloodhound of a realtor, Greg, doing most of the heavy lifting, apartment-hunting has proven to be to be all-consuming. Since Brian is busy working insane hours at Kinnetik during the week and Justin is either at the studio or pulling longer-than-long shifts at the bar, they've been reduced to looking at places on weekends or at strange hours on weeknights. Last Wednesday, Greg called them and dragged them to a place in the Village at one in the morning. This morning, he insisted they meet him at 6am at some place on the Upper West Side. Then, after that excruciating start to their Sunday morning, Greg hauled them around the city to no less than eleven different apartments. So far, nothing has seemed quite right. The places uptown have all been ridiculously pricey and utterly pretentious. After leaving the last one and bidding Greg goodbye, they both dissolved into laughter. They then spent the entire subway ride home mocking the ludicrously lavish building and the uppity residents they passed in the lobby, falling into fits of laughter over how poorly they would fit in to a place like that.

Justin finds the dumplings and opens the container, inhaling the delicious scent. He spears one with a chopstick and offers it to Brian, who grins and then gulps it down greedily.

"Our first place," Justin muses, smiling to himself. "I think we're going to find somewhere really great."

"The loft was ours," Brian points out, one hand still stroking Justin's lower back lazily.

"The loft was yours," Justin corrects, chuckling, "I just showed up one night and then kind of refused to leave."

Chuckling, Brian teases, "Stalker."

"Says the guy who followed me to New York," Justin laughs, kissing him tenderly. Brian's hand presses tighter against his lower back, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Justin smiles against his partner's eager mouth and continues the kiss indulgently.

As Justin redirects his attention elsewhere, mapping a path down Brian's neck, Brian says insistently, "The loft  _was_ ours."

"I know," Justin concedes, pulling away to smile at Brian. "I loved the loft. I miss it."

He really does. Sometimes he wakes up and expects to find himself there, and it takes a few minutes for his head to uncloud so that he can register that the loft isn't their home anymore. Pittsburgh isn't theirs anymore. Justin is still growing accustomed to having a new home; as much as he loves it, it's tricky to get used to nonetheless.

"We'll find somewhere even better." Brian takes a swig of beer, then says, "The manor was ours, too, by the way."

"Of course the manor was ours. But - and I swear not complaining - you chose it. You chose it very well, of course." Justin sees the smirk forming on Brian's face and raises his hand in a preemptive strike. "And  _no,_ I do not want to hear any more gloating about the profit you made on it. Call my mother if you want to brag about your ridiculously fortunate escapades in real estate."

"Maybe I will," Brian sniffs. "Jennifer appreciates me."

"Go right ahead," Justin chuckles. "Anyway, all I'm saying is... I loved the loft. I loved the manor. But this new place, we'll be choosing it together and decorating it together and I... I'm just really looking forward to it, is all."

They share a smile. Justin is pleased to hear Brian agree with him, in a tone imbued with warmth: "Me too." 

*

The call comes a few hours later at 2am, rousing both of them from much-needed sleep. Brian groans and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow to hide from his blaring ringtone. He feels Justin reaching across him and listens in as Justin mumbles, "Brian's phone... hi, Greg. Yeah... um, okay. We'll see you in twenty. Bye."

"We fucking will not," Brian grumbles, but Justin has already grabbed the blankets and thrown them far across the room. Well, as far as they can go, anyway. It isn't far, considering how goddamned small this place is. Brian sits up and grabs his smokes, lighting one as he watches Justin get dressed. "This'll make for a nice experiment."

"What will?"

"This," Brian remarks, gesturing to the discarded blankets, and then to the clock on the windowsill. "What will kill me first: the hypothermia or the sleep deprivation?"

"You hired him," Justin shrugs, tossing a bundle of clothes Brian's way. "He says he has a place for us in Soho but it won't be available for long. Come on, get dressed. You've survived on a lot less sleep than this."

He can't argue with that. Even if he could, he's too tired to. "This place had better be worth it."

"It's probably better than this place," Justin laughs, "By your princessy standards."

"My princessy standards, huh?" Brian grabs Justin and wrestles him up against the doorframe. In between soft, swift kisses, he scolds, "Brat."

Justin grins mischievously and tugs Brian out of the apartment. "Come on. This might be the one."

*

Sunshine's optimism pays off; Brian takes precisely two steps inside the apartment and thinks:  _this is it._ Instantly, his fatigue lifts, vanishing along with his shitty mood. Brian would gladly suffer through a double dose of hypothermia and sleep deprivation for this place. It's fucking perfect. 

He can't quite put his finger on what it is. They've seen similar places, bigger places, and places that are technically more impressive, but they pale in comparison to this one. As Greg guides them through the apartment, Brian splits his attention between listening, scanning the sprawling rooms, and watching Justin, who seems utterly enthralled. It's not just this space that seems perfect, it's that look on Justin's face.

After Greg steps out, that enamored look turns into a never-ending stream of excited observations. Justin grabs Brian's arm and drags him bodily from room to room, pointing out detail after detail. Since he's hardly in need of convincing, Brian very nearly tells Justin to stop, but he quite enjoys being taken on this whirlwind re-tour of the apartment. 

As Justin leads him towards the master bedroom, Brian glances back down the long hallway, which boasts a generous amount of empty wall space. "There's plenty of room for your work."

Justin grins back at him. "Be careful what you wish for. You'll end up with my paintings covering every inch of this place."

"There are worse fates." It pleases him to see Justin's smile stretch even wider. "So what's the plan for in here?"

They're in the master bedroom which is a veritable utopia compared to the bedroom they've shared for the past few months. Justin turns around, surveying it with intrigue. "I think whoever put that rug down over there was mentally deranged. The plants need to go, too."

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Huh?"

"You're nesting," Brian observes, slinging an arm around Justin's shoulders. He's amused to see a blush creeping up Justin's face.

"I am not!"

"You," Brian insists, "Are nesting. Mother Taylor warned me that this would happen."

"Stop gossiping with my mother," Justin gripes, elbowing Brian lightly. "Besides, how can I possibly be nesting? We haven't even decided on this place yet."

"Haven't we?"

Justin turns and grins at him. "Okay, let me show you something."

He grabs Brian again and leads him into the bedroom one room over. "This could be Gus' room. He'd be close enough so that we could hear him if he needs us, because you know how he gets nervous at night sometimes. And we could paint it, maybe mount some shelves over there for his books and his toys. We could even- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Brian doesn't want to think about what kind of doe-eyed expression he's pulling right now. He also doesn't bother trying to rid himself of it, because that's bound to be a lost cause. So he simply draws Justin in close, cups his face in both hands, and kisses him. Then he presses a softer kiss to Justin's forehead and murmurs, "I think this is it."

"I think so, too," Justin says with a brilliant smile. 

"So let's get it," Brian says, shrugging matter-of-factly.

"...'Let's get it'?" Justin repeats slowly, raising his eyebrows incredulously. "Just like that?"

"Is there anywhere else you'd rather be?"

Justin glances around the room. Brian follows his gaze, imagining what they could turn it into for Gus. He briefly entertains similar thoughts about the rest of it: the paintings that could be hung in the hallway and over their bed, and that's just for starters. This place is filled with possibilities. Brian almost feels drunk on it - the idea of what they could turn this place into. It could really be theirs. Finally, he returns his gaze to Justin, who is looking back at him in wonder.

"No," Justin replies, very softly, but with absolute certainty. "This is it."

"This is it," Brian echoes, laughing as Justin hurtles into his arms. "This is ours."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin is thrilled at the prospect of moving in to the new place with Brian. They're both even more excited when an important parcel arrives on their doorstep.

Justin was prepared for the whole process of buying an apartment and moving in to be stressful, hectic, and exhausting. How could he not be prepared? When he and Brian last visited Pittsburgh and announced that they'd found a place, the congratulations and celebrations were quickly followed by a whole slew of doomsday prophecies. His mother warned him of all the potential hazards and pitfalls of buying a home. Ben and Michael were full of stories about how stressful it was to move house. Ted was ready and  _very_ willing to impart sage yet sinister wisdoms about the financial side of things. And through all of this, Emmett was on inspiration overload, filling every single gap in the conversation with ideas for decorating and not-so-subtle hints about being available to help.

That visit to Pittsburgh prepared Justin well for the stressful, hectic, exhausting side to buying a home. What nobody warned him about was how exciting it would be. Not just exciting -  _arousing._ As the weeks go by and they move closer and closer to the place being theirs, Justin finds he can't keep his hands off Brian. Of course, he's never been able to keep his hands off Brian, but now it's heightened - astronomically so.

The night before the apartment legally becomes theirs, Justin meets Brian at Kinnetik and drags him home. They spend the entire cab ride fused to each other (the driver doesn't look too pleased, but Brian tells him to mind his own fucking business and watch the road, and Justin promises him a huge tip), kissing, grinding, hands everywhere. When they arrive home, it's a struggle to make it upstairs; kissing in the stairwell is far too tempting. Justin is very tempted to turn kissing in the stairwell into fucking in the stairwell, but that plan falls to pieces when they realise that they don't have any condoms at the ready. Brian growls frustratedly, grabs Justin tightly, and marches them up to their floor, while Justin latches onto Brian's neck, eager to leave his mark.

Their current ( _soon to be former_ , Justin suddenly realises) apartment is at the end of the hall, tucked away in a corner. It soon proves to be challenging to get that far. Justin isn't too bothered by that. Who the fuck cares that they're in the middle of the hallway? They've fucked more publicly than this. _Much_ more publicly in fact. Brian is making a concerted effort to get them down the hallway by nudging and backing Justin in that direction, but Justin is too preoccupied to help. He's managed to remove Brian's tie and is about two seconds away from tearing Brian's shirt off. He'll probably get in trouble for that, but isn't that half the fun? He has just grasped two greedy handfuls of cotton when, all of a sudden, his feet go out from under him and he hits the floor hard.

"Fuck!" 

"Shit, are you okay?" Brian holds out a hand to help him up. 

"I'm fine," Justin groans, kicking at the sizeable box he's just tripped over, which has been placed haphazardly outside their door. "What the fuck is that?"

He reaches for Brian's hand, but Brian has suddenly retracted it in favour of reaching for the box. "Fucking finally! I've been waiting for this all week."

Glaring at his preoccupied partner, Justin demands, "Are you going to help me up? Or are you going to leave me here lying flat on my ass?"

Brian shrugs and shifts the box into the crook of his right arm, then distractedly offers Justin his left hand. Grumbling, Justin asks sullenly, "What is that?"

"Mother Taylor sent me a present."

"My mother sent  _you_ a present?" Justin grabs his keys and unlocks the door. "You two creep me out. I think I may have preferred it when you had tepid feelings towards each other."

Brian ignores this, breezing right past Justin. Justin closes the door and fixes the locks, then follows Brian into their pocket of a kitchen. Brian has sourced a pair of scissors and is slicing the box open eagerly. "Wait until you see what's in here."

Justin jumps up on the counter and watches as Brian opens the box. Lying on top of thick layers of bubble-wrap is a note addressed to Brian, reading:  _Dear Brian, I hope you find these helpful. Give me a call and let me know how it's all going. Love very much, Jen._

"I'm not even mentioned!" Justin cries, which is apparently incredibly amusing to Brian. Rolling his eyes, Justin mutters, "Ha ha, very funny. You know, it feels _so_  wonderful to be my mother's second favourite child after  _you."_

"Third favourite," Brian teases, smirking. "Don't forget Molly. Actually, fourth favourite if you count Daphne, which I'm sure Mother Taylor does."

"Fuck you," Justin laughs, kicking Brian. "Asshole."

"Watch your mouth," Brian sing-songs, "Or I won't share."

He finishes unpeeling the layers of bubble-wrap and tosses them aside, then holds up the box to Justin, revealing its contents.

"Oh my god," Justin says, his eyes going wide. They grin at each other. "I love my mom!"

*

As they hole themselves up in bed with the contents of the box, Brian issues a solemn warning: "Nobody can ever know about this."

"Of course not," Justin agrees, shaking his head solemnly. "This is so utterly depraved, after all."

Dramatically, Brian foretells, "It would scandalise everyone we know to their very core."

"Oh, absolutely." Justin nods emphatically, looking at Brian aghast. "They'd never look at us the same way ever again."

"We ought to come up with a cover story."

"Hmmm..." Justin ponders silently for a moment, then suggests, "We went out clubbing."

"And tricking," Brian adds.

"We went home with two hot twinks."

 _"Three_ hot twinks."

"Three hot twinks," Justin amends. "We fucked them all night in all manner of positions."

"That last part isn't totally fabricated," Brian says, as he shifts from lying on his back to prop himself up against the headboard alongside Justin. "It's impossible to get comfortable in this bed. Where did you even find it?"

"I'm going to plead the fifth on that," Justin laughs, knowing full well Brian won't appreciate knowing the bed was sourced from a second-hand shop in Brooklyn that came close to resembling a rubbish dump with all its piles and piles of refuse. Kissing Brian's shoulder, he suggests, "Let's focus on our new place. Where's the bedding stuff?"

Brian rifles through the sizeable stacks of furniture catalogues and interior design magazines and passes a few to Justin. "Here. Now, Sunshine, I have three words for you."

"I'm listening."

"Spacious," Brian purrs, leaning in to nuzzle Justin's cheek.

"Mmmm," Justin smiles and catches Brian's mouth in a quick kiss. "And?"

"Lumbar support." Scowling, Brian grouses, "That is something which this bed is sorely lacking. Literally."

"Okay, old man." Chuckling, Justin ducks the smack Brian aims at his head. By way of apology, he slips his hand under the sheets and strokes Brian's thigh. "I'll find you something nice and ergonomically sound."

Brian hums appreciatively and presses another kiss to the corner of Justin's mouth. Justin squeezes his thigh affectionately whilst flipping through one of the catalogues. There's an endless sea of options to consider. Finding something superior to their current bed won't be an issue, but choosing from so many promising options is going to be challenging. "Maybe we should have asked Em to help."

"Oh, he'll help, alright," Brian drawls. "Just try and stop him. You watch: we're either in for a series of lavish deliveries, or he'll just show up on the doorstep one day and refuse to leave until we let him contribute."

Laughing, Justin tosses one catalogue aside and starts perusing the next one. "You sound as though you're speaking from experience."

Brian snorts. "Did I ever tell you about when I first got the loft?"

Justin shakes his head. Brian smiles and edges closer. There's a hint of secrecy to it as he says, "When I first got the loft, I barely paid attention to anything else for months. It was the first place that I could actually call my own. All that mattered was making it mine - I think I holed up in there for two weeks straight so I could figure out what I wanted to do with it. Honeycutt would call every day with 'helpful tips'... I dodged most of those calls and ignored most of his advice, of course, which eventually drove him to show up and plant his ass outside until I let him in and allowed him to 'contribute'." 

"What did he 'contribute'?"

Brian laughs. "I let him buy me a vase. It was nice, actually - it was the one thing we could agree on. And I let him talk me through the optimal way in which to arrange all the furniture. That seemed to satisfy him well enough, even though I never ended up heeding much of that advice. I wanted to make it mine, after all, not Honeycutt's."

He hushes slightly and admits, "That was the first place that ever really felt like a proper home. Kind of like how our place felt, when we first saw it."

"That's adorable," Justin says, quite pleased to have heard a story that he's sure not many other people will have heard.

"Excuse me?" Brian bristles. _"What_ did you just call me?"

"Adorable. Don't even try to deny it." Justin leans in and kisses Brian's shoulder, and then traces his thumb over the swollen red mark he's left across Brian's throat. He kisses that, too, very tenderly. Brian is all business, though - he's completely fixated on the magazines stacked in his lap. So Justin returns to the task at hand as well, continuing his perusal of the bedding catalogues. As one catches his eye, he nudges Brian and queries, "Hey, how about this one?"

Brian frowns and presses his finger to the glossy photograph, then traces it around the perimeter of the plush headboard. "That won't do."

"Why not?" Justin admires the photo longingly. "It looks comfy."

Propping his chin on Justin's shoulder, Brian murmurs silkily, "It looks like it would be impossible to tie you to."

"Right," Justin laughs. "So there's actually three core requirements: spacious, supportive, and kink-conducive."

"Obviously." Brian recoils a little, surveying Justin with dismay. "I'm disappointed in you, Sunshine, I thought you would have figured out that last one for yourself."

"Sorry, Mr. Kinney," Justin purrs, smirking as he catches heat flashing in Brian's gaze. "How about this one?"

He flips to an earlier page and points to a bed which satisfies all three core requirements. Not only that, it looks fucking gorgeous, and will make a gorgeous location for fucking. As Brian admires it, his mouth quirks into an approving smile. "That looks like it could be the one."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since it's almost time to move in, Justin and Brian continue furniture-shopping and head out in pursuit of the perfect couch. Before they can say hello to their new apartment, Justin has to say goodbye to his old one.

"This couch," Justin laughs, "Is utterly ridiculous."

"This couch," Brian retorts defensively, in a hush, "Is stunning."

Still laughing (he wants to point and laugh, but cautiously resists the temptation), Justin asks, "Why are you whispering? You're not afraid that the couch will hear this conversation, are you?"

Scowling at Justin, Brian demands, "What, pray tell, is wrong with this couch?" 

Justin sighs and surveys the couch carefully. He strolls around it, coming to stand across from Brian at the opposite end. It's probably best to be standing at a distance - Brian doesn't look at all pleased right now and is clearly taking Justin's disapproval very personally. Bed-shopping was an absolute cinch; they very quickly arrived at an agreement about which bed would be theirs. Couch-shopping, on the other hand, is turning out to be an absolute nightmare. They had shown up at the shop with two lovely couches singled out, but their well-laid plans went awry when Brian spotted this thing gleaming in the middle of the showroom.

"Where do I even begin?" Justin laments, staring at it in abject horror. "It's white-"

"It's  _ivory."_ Brian's lip curls slightly. "I thought you of all people would have been able to discern the difference, what with being an  _artiste_ and all."  


A lightbulb moment strikes. Stroking the soft fabric idly, Justin says, "Let's discuss that. As an  _artiste,_ I frequently come home covered in paint, charcoal, and all kinds of other creative muck. Oftentimes, the couch is my first destination. I'd ruin this thing within a week."

With a shrug, whilst not-so-subtly feeling up the armrest he's leaning on, Brian says breezily, "So you'll change your routine. Instead of crashing on the couch as soon as you get home like a slob, you can shower and change first."

Then, more tersely, he mutters, "Or you can just sit on the floor."

Justin had thought that the threat of artistic muck transferring onto the drastically overpriced, glorified wad of stuffing would be deterrent enough, but Brian is clearly set on acquiring this white - no,  _ivory -_ monstrosity.

"Right." Justin pauses, taking a moment to regroup. Time to up the ante. "Gus will be visiting soon."

Brian's face lights up instantly. "That he will." 

"It's been a while since I've seen him," Justin muses. "But if I recall correctly, he favours several...  _questionable_ delicacies."

The smile drops from Brian's face in an instant. 

"Grape juice. Strawberries. Blueberry yoghurt." Justin tries to suppress his smirk but it's too hard with Brian twitching with every addition to the list. "Chocolate. Potato chips. Orange fizzy dri-"

"Okay," Brian snaps. "Point taken. What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that we go and look at the two couches we carefully selected from my mother's magazines." Justin circles around Brian's totally inappropriate selection and slips into his partner's begrudging embrace. "Which, as I'm sure you'll agree, are both infinitely more appropriate than this one. They're just as attractive, only cozier, and they won't cost us a fortune in cleaning bills."

Unfortunately, none of this seems to assauge Brian's disappointment - he's still sulking stubbornly. Justin is aware that he probably shouldn't have tried to win him over with promises of coziness, but it seemed like it was worth a shot. Justin leans in, kisses his cheek gently, and whispers, "This one isn't even the right height."

Brian's brow furrows. Peering at Justin, he asks, "What does height have to do with it?"

 "I'm disappointed in you, Bri," Justin teases, chuckling. "I thought you would have figured that out for yourself."

Justin slides his hand inside Brian's jacket and strokes up and down his side tenderly. Since there are other customers nearby, Justin is careful to stay close and keep very quiet as he murmurs in Brian's ear, "The right height for you to bend me over it and pound me from behind."

Brian glances at the couch and then back at Justin. Sensing an imminent victory, Justin adds, "The ones we chose together definitely fit the bill."

Victory is his. Justin is thrilled to realise he has triumphed as Brian ceases feeling the couch up and transitions to attempting to feel Justin up. Since they're surrounded by seemingly chaste shoppers, Justin wards off Brian's attempts and mouths _later_. With a fiendish smirk, Brian abandons the couch and loops an arm tightly around Justin's waist. "You win, Sunshine. Lead the way." 

*

Justin is aware that the couches that they ended up choosing are still at high-risk of being destroyed by Gus when he arrives in five weeks' time. Several bone-chilling tales of destruction have been relayed over the past few months, so much so that Mel and Linds have taken to referring to Gus as The Human Hurricane. But Justin figures that they can deal with that when the time comes. For now, he has an apartment to finish packing.

He has no idea how it came to this, but they've been packing for three days straight. It seems impossible given how small the place is and how little he brought with him to New York, but as they packed they unearthed a surprising amount of stuff. This morning they were surrounded by it all, stashed into towering rows of boxes. Most of those are downstairs in the truck, ready to make the trip across town. Two measly boxes remain; other than that, the place has been totally cleaned out.

As Brian picks up one of the boxes, he asks gleefully, "Ready to get the hell out of dodge, Sunshine?"

"Almost." Justin pulls a face at him. "Can you try to hold off on the celebrations? You may despise this place, but I don't."

He turns away from Brian and gazes around the empty space. To his surprise, he's interrupted by Brian approaching and murmuring gently in his ear, "I know I've been a bit of a jerk about this place-"

"You've been a rampaging asshole about this place," Justin laughs, rounding on Brian and shaking his head in disbelief. "You have been whining and bitching ceaselessly ever since you took your rose-coloured I-just-moved-to-New-York glasses off."

"Okay," Brian admits, shrugging. "I've been a rampaging asshole."

He sets down the box and winds his arms around Justin, hugging him snugly. "You deserve better than this place. I want you to have the best."

Smiling and easing into the embrace, Justin murmurs, "I know." 

"And the best is waiting for us," Brian says encouragingly. "So why don't we go?"

"Okay. Let's go." As they reach the door, Justin hesitates, lingering inside. Scanning the interior of what is now no longer their apartment, Justin says wistfully, "Despite its many alleged failings, it was my first proper apartment here."

" _Alleged_ ," Brian scoffs. "Try _proven_ , Sunshine."

Justin sighs and tilts his head to give Brian a look. Relenting, Brian offers gently, "You want a moment to say goodbye?"

"Yeah. Meet you downstairs?"

Brian kisses his forehead in response, then hefts the box Justin is carrying under his right arm. "See you down at the truck."

Justin waits until Brian has disappeared into the stairwell to return his attention to the apartment. His apartment... or, at least, it was. So it's not the loft. It's not the manor. It's not their new place in Soho. But it was his first proper place in New York; the first place that he felt he belonged in the city. Despite the apartment being somewhat threadbare, the sense of belonging Justin discovered here was worth its weight in gold. He soon grew used to the shuddering pipes in the walls and the thump of music descending from four floors above. He tolerated the temperamental shower and learnt his way around the sparse kitchen. He came to know this place by heart and fell in love with it. 

This was the place he would hole up in after long nights at the bar or his studio; he enjoyed falling asleep to the building's trademark noises, set against the softer rumblings from the surrounding neighbourhood. This was the place where Brian would surprise him, showing up totally unexpectedly to save Justin from his ceaseless, pervasive longing. This was their place for a while, no matter how much Brian might protest; they've lived here for almost six months and Justin has loved every last one of them. There isn't a spot in this place where they haven't fucked at some point. Early mornings during the week were spent curled up in the kitchen, divided between bad coffee and brilliant kisses. Lazier weekend mornings were spent lounging in bed, entwined in each other's arms. 

Brian can deny it all he wants - it won't make a spot of difference, as far as Justin is concerned. This place _was_ theirs, if only for a moment.

Justin stands in the small space for a very long while, smiling as the pipes start shuddering in the walls, sounding like they may well vibrate right through the wafer-thin plaster. Somewhere upstairs, a baby is squalling. Across the way, jazz music is floating out of someone's open window. It's all so familiar. Soon it won't be. He has a new home now. A new space to find himself in, to learn by heart, to fall in love with. A home to share with Brian. _Brian._ Breathing in deep, Justin takes one final look at his apartment - former, now - and says goodbye quietly.

As he exits the building for the last time, Justin finds Brian waiting for him by the truck. Now, there's a familiar sight - Justin has lost count of how many times he would arrive home and find Brian waiting for him like this, ready to spend another weekend together, ready to continue in their ongoing attempts to bridge the gap created by their long distance nightmare. He would always sweep Justin into a huge hug and whisper, "I missed you."

Today, he embraces Justin and murmurs, "Ready to go home?"

Justin glances up at the building once more. Home is somewhere else now, waiting for both of them. As Brian presses a kiss to his temple, it brings a smile to Justin's face. Brimming with excitement, he replies, "Ready."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Brian move into their new apartment. As exciting and eventful as it is, Justin enjoys the quiet moments the most.

After their first night spent in the apartment, Justin wakes up abominably early. He cringes at first sight of the clock on his nightstand; it reads 4.30am, which he deems no time to be awake. Worse yet, he's somehow been jolted from being fast asleep to being wide awake. Justin has no idea why he's woken this early or why his body is refusing to cooperate and go back to sleep, but here he is: eyes wide open, acutely alert, and brimming with energy. Hopefully that will help with all the unpacking that still has yet to be completed. When they arrived yesterday afternoon, they managed to unpack maybe half a dozen boxes before succumbing to urges they had been stubbornly denying whilst in the process of moving. They ended up spending most of the night breaking in their new bed, which turned out to be very kink-conducive indeed. It's comfortable, too, which makes up for his early awakening. Justin doesn't really mind being up when there's a cozy bed to enjoy.

As hazy early morning light begins to spill in through the curtains they forgot to close last night, Justin turns his head and gazes at Brian, who is still sound asleep. He's curled on his side, tangled in the sheets, with one hand reaching towards Justin. It's resting on the sliver of mattress spanning the gap between them. Justin touches it lightly with a brief brush of his fingers; when he's sure he hasn't disturbed Brian, he continues delicately tracing Brian's knuckles in soft, swirling spirals. 

Justin studies Brian's face, memorising the faint stubble shadowing his jawline, the way his brow is ever so slightly furrowed, and the supple swell of his lips, still a little swollen from the intense kisses they shared last night. Once the beautiful image is burned into his mind, Justin closes his eyes and simply listens to Brian's breathing, coming in and out gently. He continues caressing Brian's hand, occasionally slipping his fingers underneath to graze Brian's pulse-point. None of this brings Justin any closer to sleep, but it does soothe him. He stops worrying about all the unpacking that needs to be done, or the endless preparations for Gus' impending visit, or juggling his shitty job at the bar with the work he's desperately trying to complete at his studio. With Brian's pulse throbbing underneath his fingertips, with the soft sound of every inhale and exhale, and with the image of his gorgeous, slumbering partner at the fore of his mind, Justin finds he feels calmer, more collected, and - more than anything - content.

He isn't even bothered when the alarm clock starts blaring shrilly at 5am. Almost instantly, Brian rolls over and reaches across Justin to grab it and turn it off. Justin opens his eyes and watches as Brian flicks the switch and shoves the clock far to one side of the nightstand. Then, with a big huff, he collapses back down and drapes himself over Justin. "You up, Sunshine?"

"Yeah," Justin murmurs, looping one arm around Brian. "For a while now."

"It's early," Brian yawns, the words coming out all muffled.

As he wriggles deeper into Brian's embrace, Justin assures him, "I don't mind. You don't have to get up right away, do you?"

"I can spare a few minutes."

"Good. This is nice."

"Mmmm." Brian sighs contentedly and buries his face against Justin's shoulder. As he dozes lightly, Justin caresses the small of his back with one hand and smooths his hair with the other. 

Their peaceful embrace doesn't last nearly long enough. At 5.05am, Brian groans and jumps out of bed. "I'm going to the gym. Wanna come with?"

"Nah." Justin eyes the boxes stacked outside the walk-in robe. "I'll be getting a good work-out here with all the unpacking."

Brian starts tugging on his gym gear. "Leave some for me. I can help out tonight. Where are my sneakers?"

Justin gestures towards the walk-in. "Bottom shelf on the right."

He watches as Brian disappears inside and then returns with his sneakers in one hand and socks in the other. As Brian sits down on the edge of the bed to put them on, Justin curls up close to him and presses tender kisses up his back. Brian turns his head and smiles at him. "What woke you up so early?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's being in the new place?" Justin rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. "That's probably it. I really don't mind, though..."

He's suddenly struck by embarrassingly sentimental thoughts that bring a huge smile to his face. Brian pokes him and queries, "What are you thinking?"

"I was just thinking about our first morning together," Justin admits, blushing a little, "And how it felt waking up next to you for the first time."

With a smile, Brian asks, "How did it feel?"

"Wonderful... until you asked me what the fuck I was doing there," Justin laughs, grabbing a pillow to whack Brian with. "Plus you couldn't remember my name, you asshole."

Brian snorts. Feeling increasingly sentimental, Justin cozies up to him and admits quietly, "I remember being in bed with you, seeing and feeling you next to me, and thinking that I was so in love with you."

He slips his arms around Brian's waist, hugging him gently from behind. "Maybe I was, in a way... but it's nothing compared to how much I love you now."

Brian turns to look at him. Justin drinks up the tender expression on his face, even though he only gets to see it for a mere moment before Brian grabs him and kisses him. 

"You're going to be late," Justin warns, as Brian flattens him against the mattress and covers him with kisses.

Brian laughs and crushes his mouth against Justin's possessively. "I don't mind."

*

Once Brian leaves, Justin spends a good hour in bed. This is partly necessary so that he can recuperate after their very brief but intense fuck, but mostly, he's keen to stay in bed so that he can become familiar with this new space.

As Justin lies there, still and silent, he tunes in to his surroundings. The apartment is quiet, and the building seems to be too. Unlike the 'death trap', as Brian has so kindly termed their former apartment, Justin can't hear so much as a hint of noise from upstairs, downstairs, or across the hall. He can hear some noise from outside, though - there's a rushing stream of traffic from the surrounding streets, plus rumblings from a construction site two blocks away. He doesn't mind that - he likes hearing the rumble of the city in the background, whether it's gentle like it is right now, or even if it's ear-splittingly loud. Either way, it feels like home.

Eventually, Justin pulls himself out of bed. There are boxes to be unpacked and endless other chores to be completed. He works solidly until midday, at which point he realises he can't go any further - there's a knot in his back that keeps throbbing and his hand is cramping up like crazy. In need of a change of pace, Justin heads over to his studio.

There are a few things he's working on - a couple of pieces for an upcoming show, a birthday present for Daph, and a thank you present for his mother. Today, none of those prove tempting. After spending some time stretching his hand and returning it to optimal functionality (which isn't great, but it's good enough), Justin sits down with his sketchbook and starts working on what proves most tempting: plans for Gus' bedroom. He immerses himself in the task, filling up almost the entire book with endless illustrations and lists. By the time he's forced to finish (his fucking hand is cramping up, _again)_ , it's dark outside. Justin sits back and flicks through the sketchbook, eyeing the plans with intrigue, wondering what Brian will think. Eager to find out, Justin tucks the book into his satchel and hurries on home.

*

When Justin returns home, it's to a dark apartment that's entirely silent. For a moment, he worries that Brian is working absurdly late again, which he seems to be doing a lot of lately. But then Justin sees Brian's briefcase and cellphone set on the hall table. So he's home, but where?

Before seeking out Brian, Justin sets his things down and leans against the wall for a moment. He's more tired than he'd realised; all the unpacking and sketching has left him exhausted. Dragging his feet slightly, Justin ventures towards the living room, where he can see one lamp lit very dimly. He finds Brian sprawled out on the couch with a stack of files piled up beside him. Glancing at Justin briefly, Brian murmurs, "Hey, Sunshine."

"Hey." Justin leans against the back of the couch and smiles at Brian. "What's up?"

"Paperwork," Brian groans, rubbing at his face tiredly. "Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork."

He sounds beyond stressed. Justin abandons his plans for showing Brian his ideas for Gus' room and decides to work on assuaging Brian's stress. He reaches down and brushes Brian's hair back, stroking it soothingly. He's pleased when Brian smiles and leans into his touch.

"You look like you could use a break," Justin suggests brightly. "Why don't we go out?"

"Sorry, Sunshine, no can do - I have to get this finished." With his eyes still glued to the file in his hands, Brian adds, "You should go, though. No reason why we both have to be boring."

Glancing towards the front door, Justin briefly entertains the idea of venturing out for a night on the town. There's still so much of the city that he has yet to explore, all of which is currently waiting for him. Ordinarily, the thought would excite him. Tonight, it fails to inspire any sort of thrill. 'Boring' though it may well be by Brian's standards, Justin would much prefer a peaceful night at home to match their peaceful beginning to the day.

"I think I could do boring for a night." Justin slips out of his jacket and kicks his shoes off. As he goes to set his folded jacket on the coffee table, he adds, "If you don't mind the company, that is."

"Not at all," Brian murmurs, shifting over to make room.

As Justin eases onto the couch, he pools in between Brian and the cushions. He sighs happily, comforted by Brian's proximity and warmth. New York's nightlife will have to wait - tonight, this is the only place worth being. With the tension of the day slowly drifting away, Justin rests his head on Brian's shoulder and lets his eyes fall shut. "Is work treating you okay?"

"It's fine," Brian says distractedly. "How's the art world?"

"Exhausting," Justin admits. He hasn't really been engaging with the art world all that much since they've been so busy moving, but he remembers what it was like well enough and imagines it can't have changed too drastically in the last few weeks. So, with a sigh, he summarises: "Good, but exhausting."

"I know the feeling." 

Justin smiles as he feels Brian's hand move to cradle his head. As Brian's fingers start carding through his hair, Justin starts to doze off. He remains suspended somewhere between wake and sleep, wrapped up in the delightful warmth shared between their bodies, only distantly aware of the slow caress of Brian's fingers and the occasional brush of lips against his forehead. Yes, this is the place to be: cuddled up with his partner in their apartment.  _A home within a home,_ Justin thinks, drifting further off to sleep. He vaguely registers Brian shifting to grab something, and then feels a blanket being draped over the two of them. Ensconced in all this cozy warmth, Justin soon falls fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin has been working hard on preparing Gus' room - too hard, if you ask Brian. During a long lunch break, Brian gives Justin a long-needed break from his pet project.

Every time Brian comes home, something is different.

The changes are slight but immediately recognisable: yesterday it was flowers in the entryway, courtesy of Daphne, and the day before it was a new painting hung in his home office, courtesy of Sunshine (of course). The painting was one of Brian and Gus, a recreation of a photo taken years earlier. Brian can't recall exactly when or where the photo was taken, but it's one of his all-time favourites nonetheless. In it, he's holding baby Gus up, who is kicking towards the camera with chubby legs all in a blur. Justin has reimagined it in a rainbow palette enacted in bold smudges of paint that burst off the canvas. It's so vivid that it almost looks like Gus' feet are about to pop right out at him. Brian can't imagine anything better to have in his office - one look at that painting, and he feels better, happier, livelier. It keeps him going on many a late night spent hunched over the desk, obsessing over Kinnetik's recent expansion and the endless associated responsibilities.

He normally returns home in the evening and discovers that these changes are accompanied by something ever so familiar - Justin in the kitchen, cooking him dinner. Brian has long since given up on telling him he doesn't have to cook - it's obvious Justin enjoys doing so, going by the way he moves around the kitchen, laughing and chattering, singing and dancing. Brian's not about to put a stop to that - especially not since Justin's cooking is fucking spectacular. He's been taught well by Deb and Mother Taylor, who continue to send recipes and care packages full of kitchen goods, all of which Justin puts to excellent use. It's Brian's favourite part of the day: coming home to their apartment, seeing what new and wonderful thing Sunshine has done with the place, and having dinner together. 

It's possible he's turning into a breeder. A simpering, sentimental sap of a breeder, no less. But who the fuck cares? Brian decides he can stand to cherry-pick whichever Stepford qualities suit him best. Living some picket-fenced suburban dream in Connecticut? No fucking way! Returning home to his partner and a home-cooked meal? ... yeah. _Yes._ Absolutely. This, he can deal with. This, he quite likes - or, in all honesty, loves.

Today, Brian decides he'd rather not wait until the evening to see Justin. He asks Cynthia to schedule an extra long lunch 'hour' and books it back to Soho in record time. As Brian makes his way upstairs to their floor, he contemplates how they might spend this lunch break. Some of it will be spent in bed or whatever other surface they deem appropriate (that's a given), but as for actual lunch plans... maybe he should take Justin out. The stubborn little brat has been holed up in the apartment for days,  _weeks_ even, setting up Gus' room. It's equal parts impressive and worrying. As endlessly grateful as Brian is for Justin's dedication to the very important task of creating the perfect room for his _(...their?)_ perfect son, it seems to be chewing up a lot of Justin's time and energy. 

When Brian walks through the door, he's instantly assaulted by the scent of fresh paint and the sound of a drill. He heads towards Gus' room and peers in. It's a struggle not to burst out laughing. Barely managing to stifle it, Brian asks incredulously, "Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?"

Justin is over by the Eastern wall, fixing a set of shelves to it. After the last screw goes in, he sets down the drill and explains with a roll of his eyes, "My father taught me. It was part of his undying quest to make a man of me."

It's on the tip of Brian's tongue to point out that Justin is playing fast and loose with the word 'undying', given that he hasn't seen or heard from Craig Taylor since the fucker had Justin arrested. Brian has to bite his tongue - bitching about Justin's pathetic excuse for a father isn't going to accomplish anything. There are better ways to spend this lunch break.

"I'll make a man of you," Brian purrs, prowling towards Justin and then pouncing on him. He's about ready to ravage him when Justin yelps and darts out of Brian's reach. His back is arching at some impossible looking angle. Alarmed, Brian asks, "What's wrong?!"

"My back," Justin moans, clasping one hand against the small of it. "It's fucking killing me."

"You've been pushing yourself too hard," Brian growls,  _"Again."_

He grabs Justin by the arm and hauls him gently but firmly out of Gus' room. Ignoring Justin's feeble protests, Brian insists, "You need to rest. Lie down while I draw you a bath."

He manages to get Justin onto their bed without too many complaints. Brian orders him to lie still and warns him not to move, and then heads into their bathroom to prepare the bath. While it fills, Brian leans against the sink and tries to stop the worry that's gnawing away at the pit of his stomach. Justin has been warned repeatedly about pushing himself too hard with this home improvement kick he's been on, but of course, he hasn't listened. Well, fuck that - Brian isn't taking 'no' for an answer this time.

As soon as the tub is full, Brian goes to fetch Justin. Like the stubborn little shit he is, he's ignored Brian's direct orders and is sitting up, trying to undress himself one-handed, since his left hand is still plastered to his sore back. Brian sighs pointedly and bats Justin's hand away from where it's grabbing uselessly at buttons, then helps him out of his clothes and guides him into the bathroom. Pointing at the tub, he directs, "Get in there and stay in there."

Justin pulls a face but slides into the tub obediently. Brian turns his attention to the cabinet, rifling through it for pain killers. He finds the bottle, double-checks the label, palms two, and hands them to Justin with a glass of water. "Take these."

"Thanks," Justin says, smiling thinly. "And sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm guessing you envisaged your lunch break going differently than this?"

"Twat." Brian flicks the bathwater at him. "I'm quite content spending my lunch break like this. Anything to keep you from your disturbingly persistent attempts to maim and/or kill yourself."

Rolling his eyes, Justin retorts sullenly, "I am  _not_ trying to maim and/or kill myself. It just so happens that there's work to be done around here, and what's more, I enjoy doing it."

"Right," Brian drawls. "You sure looked like you were enjoying that back spasm."

Justin sighs and then slips under the water, submerging himself for a few seconds. When he resurfaces, his face and arms are flushed faint pink and shiny slick. Brian grabs the crate of Gus' toys that Justin has set up next to the tub and positions it at the head of the tub, then sits down. As Justin drapes his arms over the sides of the tub, Brian brings his hands to rest on Justin's shoulders. As he slides them down Justin's chest, then back up again, he urges, "Tell me if it's too much."

Justin nods slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. Brian smooths his hands over Justin's shoulders, his arms, his chest, letting his hands glide over Justin's slippery flesh. Brian watches Justin's face, all pink and dewy. There are droplets of water clustered in his lashes, which are slowly slipping down his face in fine rivulets. His wet hair is spread messily across his forehead, heading in about six different directions. Brian takes his hands and caresses slowly from Justin's forearms, up to his shoulders, along his neck, around his jawline, and finally, delves into Justin's hair. Justin moans softly as Brian combs it back with gentle swipes of his fingers. The sound ignites a spark of lust within Brian; he tries to ignore it, but it's excruciatingly difficult when he's staring at Justin's mouth falling open. It's even more challenging when Justin's tongue peeks out to indulgently trace the curve of his lower lip. 

Ordinarily, Brian would haul Justin out of the tub, throw him on the floor, and fuck him right there, hard and fast. That's certainly where almost all of his instincts are leading him right now. However, there are a stray few instincts that are acting as the voice of reason in this situation, encouraging him to resist temptation and give Justin room to mend, and mend well. Brian forces himself to follow these instincts and focuses on kneading Justin's tired shoulders and arms. It's hard to ignore Justin's soft yet wholly satisfied moans, but Brian soon acquires the knack for it. He centers all of his attention on administering soothing touches and finds himself enthralled by the sensation of Justin's flesh underneath his fingers, all warm and supple. He's known this body by heart for years now, but never like this. He knows where Justin likes to be touched, grabbed, kissed, licked, sucked, bitten. He knows how to bring Justin to impossible heights, how to reduce him to begging and pleading, how to turn soft moans into passionate screams. And though they often massage each other, it rarely lasts long before turning into something else. Brian has never had this much time to explore and observe. He decides to seize the opportunity for both of their sakes - Justin can mend, and he can learn. And learn he does: Brian soon figures out exactly how to trace his fingers along Justin's throat, so that Justin shudders and sighs; he figures out that slowly raking his fingers through Justin's wet hair is apparently as pleasurable as when he tugs at it during sex, if not more so, given Justin's eager moans; and he discovers that he can almost lull Justin off to sleep by pattering his fingertips ever so lightly up and down Justin's forearms, up and down his neck, and around and around his jawline.

When his phone starts beeping, sounding the reminder for his upcoming 2pm meeting, Brian's initial instinct is to turn the damn thing off and skip the meeting. He's grown addicted to touching Justin like this and can't fathom tearing his hands away right now. But tear his hands away he must - there are clients waiting, and important ones at that. So he drops a quick kiss to Justin's forehead and says apologetically, "I have to go. I'll be home after my meeting, though. Make sure you rest, okay?"

"Okay." Justin opens his eyes and smiles warmly at Brian. "Hope the meeting goes well."

"It will," Brian predicts with a smug smirk. "I'll see you in a couple of hours. Take care of yourself, Sunshine."

He looks back quickly, hoping to catch one more glimpse of Justin's radiant smile. There it is - as bright and as beautiful as ever. While his smile warms Brian through, Justin says assuredly, "I promise I will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin opens up to Brian about his plans for Gus' room and his concerns about their recent turn for the conventional.

Justin stays in the tub for hours, soaking indulgently as the pain in his back slowly recedes. He can just reach the taps with his toes so that he can replenish the hot water every so often, ensuring it stays as deliciously hot as it was when he first climbed in. He sinks deep into it, until the water is lapping at his chin, and remains there until the ache in his back has faded away.

He can still feel Brian's touch lingering all over him. That's hardly surprising; Justin has felt the ghost of Brian's touch all over him since he was seventeen years old. Its presence is ever-enduring. Today, though, something felt different. He has known Brian's touch to be affectionate, passionate, intuitive, soothing, even healing (often deeply so), but Justin can't recall any time when it was so totally and utterly attentive. Even though he had his eyes closed throughout, Justin was viscerally aware of Brian's enthusiasm for the task. His every touch was so deliberate, so indulgent, so loving, and so lasting. Even now, as Justin climbs out of the tub and towels himself off, the sensation of Brian's caring caress remains with him, vividly so. Keen to chase that feeling, Justin grabs Brian's bathrobe instead of his own and slips into it. He wraps himself up in it tightly for a moment, breathing in his partner's scent. Justin smiles to himself then ties the robe loosely and heads into the kitchen.

Although his mother hasn't had a chance to visit yet, she has been sending parcels constantly. Justin's favourite so far is the cookbook that arrived a few weeks ago - a new edition of one his mother owned when he was little. He remembers many an evening spent in the kitchen, reading out the ingredients while his mother sourced them from the pantry and fridge, and then working through the method with her, side-by-side. It was one of his favourite pastimes as a child. Hell, it's one of his favourite pastimes now - Justin adores cooking, especially for Brian, and  _especially_ here in their new home.

Just as he's gotten the dinner onto the stovetop to cook, Brian arrives home. Justin smiles at the sound of him coming through the door, then soon finds that smile turning into a huge grin as Brian enters the kitchen. Then he's quickly swept up in an ardent embrace, with Brian's arms coiled around him and their mouths crushed together. Unfortunately, they're abruptly interrupted by the pot on the stove rattling as it reaches boiling point. Justin eases away from Brian and turns to tend to it. Meanwhile, Brian loops his arms around Justin's middle and kisses the nape of his neck. "How's your back?" 

"Much better," Justin says, turning to press his lips to Brian's. He soon finds himself maneuvered towards the fridge and backed up against it with Brian's hands roaming over him greedily. He laughs into Brian's mouth and urges, "Wait. I have something I want to show you."

Brian relents and goes to sit down on one of the kitchen stools. Justin turns down the temperature on the stove so that the stew can safely simmer, and then grabs his sketchbook from on top of the fridge. He sits down next to Brian and places the sketchbook down between them on the kitchen island. "I've been working on this for a few weeks and I wanted you to see. I thought if you liked any of the ideas, we could go shopping tomorrow."

As Justin begins to flip through it, he feels Brian's hand brushing over the small of his back. He smiles gratefully at Brian and is pleased when Brian not only smiles back, but intensifies the touch. Justin leans into it, enjoying the soothing massage as he shows off his illustrations of what Gus' room might look like. It's undergone some transformation since they moved in - as the weeks have gone by, it's been thoroughly repainted, the shelves are up, and the bed is stored in Brian's home office, ready to be assembled. Other than that though, they haven't made much progress. Although the room looks much more presentable than it did when they bought the apartment, it feels slightly barren. It's certainly in need of livening up, which Justin has endless ideas for.

Halfway through his ramblings about nightlights and picture books, Justin starts to wonder if he's boring Brian. But just as he's faltering, Brian grabs him and swoops in for a dizzying kiss. It's as though he's a mind-reader or something... or maybe Brian just knows him that well by now. Justin lets go of the sketchbook and moves into Brian's lap, returning the kiss with double the ferocity.

When Brian pulls away, he glances at the sketchbook and then returns to gazing at Justin with obvious adoration. "This is great."

"You really like it?"

"I fucking love it." Brian kisses Justin again. "Thank you."

Justin shrugs. "It was nothing."

Brian looks at the sketchbook and smooths his hand over one of the pages. "No, it wasn't."

He says it with such reverence that Justin can't help but blush. Struck with relief and renewed excitement, Justin grins at Brian and asks, "You're free tomorrow, right? I thought we could source this stuff and then set it up together."

"I'm free," Brian confirms.

"And you don't mind spending your Saturday like that?" Justin bites his lip. "I know our activities of late have been absurdly conventional- ow!"

He rubs the spot on his arm that Brian has just flicked. Brian settles his hands firmly on Justin's hips and says sternly, "If I minded, I'd have told you as much, wouldn't I?"

Justin nods and then flicks him right back. As Brian scowls at him, Justin points out snarkily, "You started it."

Even so, he leans in and kisses Brian's shoulder quickly. Then he loops his arms around Brian's neck and says, "I'm glad you don't mind. I don't either, I love all of this. I was just a little worried that you might mind or something. After all, we haven't exactly been our usual selves lately."

At that, Brian smirks. Justin wonders if he's thinking the same thing: that they haven't seen the inside of a bar or club for weeks, nor have they engaged with a single trick since they first started looking for this place. Brian laughs a little and pulls Justin closer. "Sunshine, there's plenty of time for all of that later. As of right now, this is fine."

Scrunching up his nose, Justin repeats dubiously, "Fine?"

Brian's smile softens, as does his voice. "Better than fine. Great."

"Great," Justin echoes, smiling.

Brian kisses Justin, then adds, "Wonderful."

Justin smiles even wider and kisses Brian back, then agrees, "Amazing."

"Sublime," Brian supplies, grinning before catching Justin's lips in yet another kiss. And there it is again, multiplied infinitely: that sense of relief and renewed excitement. It's intoxicating, particularly when it's coupled with Brian's kisses. As Justin sinks into it, he quickly loses himself, but before everything turns delightfully hazy there is one clear thought ringing through his mind: _Sublime, indeed._

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Emmett comes to visit, Justin is thrilled. He's also intrigued, since it seems Emmett is reconnecting with a certain someone.

Brian's predictions turn out to be entirely true: first come the lavish deliveries and then comes Emmett himself. Justin is thrilled that Brian's foretellings were fulfilled; he's missed Pittsburgh in general, but Emmett in particular, so the sudden influx of gifts followed by Emmett's arrival is more than welcome.

"Oh, honey, it's  _gorgeous,"_ Emmett exclaims, sighing dreamily as he surveys Gus' newly decorated bedroom. "Gussy is going to love it!"

"You think?" Justin stares around the space with trepidation. 

"I  _know,"_ Emmett insists, wrapping his arms around Justin and drawing him in for a cuddle. "Baby, you've done great. Now let's work on getting you and Brian fed, okay?"

Justin laughs as Emmett grabs his hands and leads him down the hall towards the kitchen. Em's enthusiasm is shining so brightly that he's practically skipping with every step. The words  _best day ever_ come to mind; Justin's day started off with a very productive morning at the studio, followed by lunch with Brian uptown, and then he spent the long but lovely walk home on the phone to Daph. When he arrived back at the apartment, yet another delivery was waiting for him. Yesterday, it was a parcel containing a glamorous set of napkin rings. The day before, it was a box stacked with luxurious sets of sheets. The day before that, it was an elegant glass vase. All three gifts were adorned with sparkling ribbon and were paired with notecards bearing flawless, flowing script. Each note wished him and Brian well for their new life in their new home, signed lovingly from Emmett with a  _lot_ of x's and o's running down the page. Today, the present waiting was Emmett himself. Justin found him sitting in the hallway, flicking through a magazine, with a length of sparkling ribbon looped around his neck in a bow. Pointing to it and grinning, he said, "I thought I'd save the best gift for last." _  
_

Emmett is certainly the best gift by far. He's spent the last half hour following Justin around on a very meticulous tour of the apartment and has offered nothing but glowing praise and a whole lot of enthusiastic _ooh-_ ing and  _aah-_ ing. It means a lot to Justin to gain Emmett's seal of approval, and it means even more that Emmett is keen to turn the  _best day ever_ into the  _best weekend ever._ As they work on getting dinner and dessert ready, Emmett reels off a huge list of plans for the weekend: brunches and lunches, shopping, trips to galleries, a Broadway show (or three, if Emmett has his way), and plenty of barhopping and clubbing. 

"You have to tell me what that is," Justin says, almost salivating as he eyes the sinful looking dessert that Emmett is carefully assembling.

 _"C'est une tarte au chocolat,"_ Emmett replies, preening as he whips ladles full of cream into a bowl full of melted chocolate. "Brian will make a fuss about eating it, no doubt, but I'm sure you can find a way to talk him into it."

Justin laughs as Emmett winks at him. "I'll figure something out. Anyway, it looks amazing."

 _"C'est magnifique,"_ Emmett says brightly. "Speaking of which, you'd best watch yourself - I'm about to dive across this island and devour that thing whole."

Clutching the baking dish protectively, Justin warns, "Don't you dare!"

"But it looks so nummy!" Emmett pouts as Justin moves the dish further and further away. 

"It's not even cooked yet!" Justin glances down at the dish, in which he's assembled about a dozen canneloni, made from scratch. He can sort of see Emmett's point, actually - they do look delicious, even in their uncooked state. Justin tries to avoid temptation by grabbing the salt and pepper to add more seasoning. "As soon as this is in the oven, I'll fix up the guestroom for you."

Emmett waves his hand and says pleasantly, "No need, sweetie. I can find somewhere else to stay."

"Don't be silly! I just have to make up the bed, it's no trouble."

"Well..." Emmett eyes Justin thoughtfully, sets down the bowl and whisk, and leans in to confide, "Truth be told, I have somewhere else to be."

The oven dings, announcing that it's preheated. Justin breathes a sigh of relief, the way he does every time he enters this kitchen. The kitchen in their last apartment was tiny and poorly-equipped; on a good day, the oven took an hour to preheat, and even then it wasn't a surefire thing. As Emmett stands up to open the oven door for him, Justin picks up the baking dish and heads over to slide the dish in. After Emmett has closed the oven door with a flourish, Justin asks curiously, "Where are you planning on going?"

They sit back down at the island across from each other. Emmett resumes whipping the bowl of chocolatey goodness. His gaze set on the glossy mixture as it swirls around and around, he admits quietly, "Drew's in town."

Intrigued, Justin scoots his seat a little closer to the island. "Are you two...?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Though he's smiling, Emmett winces a little. "We keep in touch though."

As Emmett continues talking, Justin grabs the chopping board and gets to work chopping the cucumber for the salad. It's hard to stay on task - he can focus on chopping and talking at the same time, but then Emmett starts pouring the chocolate mixture into the prepared chocolate crust and Justin starts to develop tunnel vision. He shakes it off and listens in carefully as Emmett explains, "Sometimes Drewsie calls me. Mostly he texts, and every so often, I write to him - I'm a romantic like that - and  _sometimes_  we catch up for... drinks?"

He bites his lip and eyes Justin meaningfully. Grinning, Justin asks, "As in... drinks or  _drinks?"_

There's a split-second pause and then Emmett beams and announces exuberantly, "The latter! Well, we do start off with actual drinks, but they very quickly turn into  _drinks._ Now, I'm not expecting anything to come of it. I'm not getting my hopes up and there's to be no counting of any eggs before they hatch-"

"It must mean something, though." Justin pushes the chopping board aside and folds his arms on top of the counter. Leaning in closer to Emmett, he muses, "If he keeps texting, if you keep meeting up, if drinks are followed by  _drinks..."_

Going pink, Emmett says softly, "Maybe. I don't know..."

"Em," Justin says, reaching for his hand. "Definitely. You two love each other. You'll make your way back to each other, I'm sure of it."

Brian would probably admonish him for speaking in absolutes, but Justin really doesn't give a shit. Justin may not buy into soul mates or happily ever afters anymore, but he can see how much this means to Emmett and he wants to believe it will work out. It's clear that Emmett feels the same way; following a worryingly unsteady sigh, he murmurs wistfully, "You have no idea how much I want to believe that."

"There's nothing wrong with believing." Justin glances around the kitchen pointedly. "There was a time when people told me not to believe in Brian."

Emmett raises his eyebrows. _"A_  time?"

Justin raises his in return and sighs. "Okay, many times.  _All_  the time. Constantly. For many, many years. But you know what?"

Smiling knowingly at Justin, Emmett supplies, "Fuck 'em?"

"Fuck 'em," Justin agrees, laughing. "Believing in Brian... believing in  _us..._ was one of the best things I ever did. Look at us now."

"Look at you now," Emmett echoes softly, his gaze filled with warmth. 

"And sure, there were times when I wavered." Justin feels the smile vanish from his face as he remembers those times and how regretful they were. Emmett locks their fingers tighter together in a silent expression of solace. Strengthened by that kind gesture, Justin continues, "You have no idea how much I wish I could undo all of that. Sometimes I think about it and I can't stand it - what if I had given up? What if we'd missed out on all of this?"

"But sweetie, you didn't," Emmett reminds gently.

Justin nods, but he still struggles to return the smile to his face. Emmett leans in closer and pulls their joined hands to his mouth, kissing them softly. That makes a world of difference. He squeezes Emmett's hands tightly. "I say go on believing. I think Drew is worth it. I think what you two had -  _have -_ is worth it."

A huge smile flourishes over Emmett's face. It's unavoidably infectious - smiling back, Justin adds, "And hey, just look at Daph. She never stopped believing in Brian and me, so now she's secured bragging rights for life. You would not believe how often she rubs it in my face; it's one of her favourite pastimes, climbing up on that high horse of hers."

They dissolve into laughter. Justin grins at Emmett, unlocks their hands, and circles around the kitchen island to wrap him up in a hug. "Don't give up. I think you two have something that deserves to be fought for."

"Oh, honey." Emmett hugs back twice as hard. "I love you."

This is abruptly punctuated by a very loud, very familiar thump, which Justin immediately recognises as Brian's briefcase hitting the floor.

"A- _hem,"_ calls Brian, loudly and sullenly from the doorway. Justin grins at him over Emmett's shoulder, chuckling as Brian scowls back. Within seconds, he's crossed the room, intent on prying Emmett off Justin. Once Justin has been  _ever_ so delicately extracted from Emmett's embrace, he's wrapped up in Brian's arms. In a deliciously possessive purr, Brian greets him, "Sunshine."

Then, with a distinct edge of menacing, Brian mutters, "Honeycutt."

 _"Darling,"_  Emmett gushes, unfazed. "Group hug!!"

Before Emmett can throw his arms around the both of them, Brian darts away. With a derisive laugh, he says, "I don't do group hugs."

"Then you'll just have to have one all for yourself." Emmett turns to Justin quickly and teases, "Greedy, isn't he?"

Justin laughs as he watches Emmett swallow Brian up in a huge hug. Within seconds, Brian's moody façade crumbles. He smiles and hugs Emmett back gladly. When they break apart, Brian asks, "What brings you to these parts?"

"Well," Emmett laughs, ushering Brian onto one of the kitchen stools and helping him out of his jacket. "I _was_  sent to forcibly drag the two of you back to Pittsburgh. People are demanding your return, you know."

As Emmett very carefully folds Brian's jacket and drapes it over one of the unoccupied stools, Brian snorts and gives Justin a look. Justin smiles and shrugs, then returns to preparing the salad. He can smell the canneloni cooking in a mouth-watering medley of tomato, basil, and garlic. The timer is ticking away, down to forty-five minutes now - Justin is pleased to know dinner isn't too far away.

Emmett loops his arms around Brian's shoulders and kisses his cheek. "I did have the abduction all planned out to perfection-"

"Of course," Brian snarks.

"-but then I arrived and saw this beautiful city, and your beautiful home, and your beautiful selves looking blissfully happy, and you know what?" Emmett smiles at both of them. "I'm calling it off. You two can stay here."

Brian touches his hand to Emmett's wrist and says lightly, "How very generous of you."

"You know what's really generous? I'm taking you two shopping tomorrow and I'm going to buy you something truly fantastic."

Justin abandons chopping the vegetables momentarily to protest, "Em, no! You don't have to-"

"Nonsense! I'm taking you two shopping and that's all there is to it. You need a fantastic New York something for your fantastic New York home." Emmett grabs Brian's hand and glances at his watch. "Now, I really must be off."

Sounding surprised (and - Justin thinks - a little disappointed, too), Brian asks, "You aren't staying?"

"Drew's meeting me for drinks," Emmett boasts, waggling his eyebrows. "At the Plaza, no less! I'd best be on my way or else I'll be running the risk of being unfashionably late, and that simply won't do."

He kisses Brian's cheek once more and then comes and swarms Justin with another bear hug. Very quietly, he whispers in Justin's ear, "Thank you, baby."

"Good luck," Justin whispers back.

Emmett pulls away and points at his delectable looking  _tarte au chocolate_. "You put that in the oven when the dinner comes out. Set the timer for half an hour and be sure to let it cool a little once it comes out."

"Sure," Justin agrees, smiling adoringly at Emmett. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you then," Emmett says with a big grin and a wave. "You two have yourself a lovely evening, now."

"You too," Justin calls, as Emmett saunters out of the kitchen and lets himself out of the apartment. Once he's gone, Justin heads straight for Brian and drops into his lap. "Hey."

With one eyebrow arched critically, Brian queries, "Drew's meeting him for drinks?" 

Justin nods. "Mark my words: they're getting back together."

"Are they, now?"

"They're obviously still in love with each other. They'll end up together, trust me."

Brian smirks and teases, "Such a romantic."

"Uh, glass houses, stones, et cetera, et cetera," Justin chuckles, kissing Brian quickly. "Seriously, I bet you that they're back together within the year."

Brian pulls a face and shrugs, as though he's seriously unimpressed with such a bland bet. Opting to up the stakes, Justin amends, "I'll bet you that they're back together and engaged within the year-"

Still looking utterly bored, Brian sighs.

"-and that they're married no more than six months after that." Justin chews on his lower lip for a moment, then adds, "And it'll be a big, glitzy destination wedding spanning at least... four days. No, five."

Brian leans back and surveys Justin curiously. "What are the terms?"

Brushing his hand through Brian's hair, Justin suggests, "Winnings comprise one hundred blow jobs."

Once again, Brian sighs. Apparently he's impossible to impress tonight. Justin doesn't let it faze him. He weaves his fingers through Brian's hair and draws him in for a tender kiss. After their lips part, Justin rests his forehead against Brian's and sweetens the pot: "Plus fifty rim jobs, and the winner gets to top exclusively either for the entire duration of the wedding. Or, if there isn't one, for... a whole week."

Brian narrows his eyes at Justin and falls into a long spell of contemplative silence. Finally, he extends his hand and grasps Justin's in a firm handshake. "Deal."

Although he's pleased that Brian has agreed to the bet (and a bet that Justin is sure he'll win, at that), Justin sours a little when he realises what Brian is betting against.

"You realise you're betting against Em's happiness?" Justin frowns at Brian. "Asshole."

"You started it," Brian retorts, raising his hands. Smiling innocently, he adds, "Let's say that for Emmett's sake, I hope you win."

Justin rolls his eyes and hops out of Brian's lap. He heads over to the oven to check on dinner, which is slowly cooking away, smelling more and more delicious by the moment. He's surprised when Brian's arms suddenly slip snugly around his waist. With his lips pressed to Justin's ear, Brian whispers silkily, "And hey, it might be fun... letting you top for a week."

Arousal jolts hotly through Justin, spreading like wildfire. He spins around to face Brian and demands with faux outrage, "It  _might_ be fun?"

"Maybe," Brian shrugs. "Who can say? It's been such a long time, after all..."

That's an invitation, if ever he's heard one. Justin can't contain the grin that breaks out over his face. He grabs two handfuls of Brian's shirt. "Maybe I should jog your memory."

"Maybe you should," Brian drawls, smirking, his eyes flickering with smoldering heat. 

Thrilled, Justin tugs Brian towards him and plasters their mouths together in searing kiss. He doesn't let Brian go until they're both on the edge of breathlessness. After drawing in a much-needed, invigorating breath, Justin grins and starts pushing Brian out of the kitchen and towards their bedroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I am planning to follow up with a fic dedicated to what eventuates between Emmett and Drew. Although I've touched on it briefly throughout this series, I've recently been very inspired to explore this further. It may be a while until I get around to posting it, so for now let's just say that this time it's Justin's predictions that are spot on :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Brian enjoy one night spent at home, and one night spent out.

"I've never heard you scream like that before," Justin murmurs, tracing his finger over Brian's sweat-slicked chest in a slow, spiralling line. He can feel Brian's chest rising and falling rapidly. It's paired with Brian's breathing coming in and out quickly, which matches Justin's own. They're both still recovering from what can only be termed a mind-blowing fuck, during which Brian almost screamed the goddamned apartment down. 

Although Justin knows this to be a fact, Brian is stubbornly contesting it. He makes a considerable display of curling his lip, huffing, and saying dismissively, "I didn't  _scream."_

"You screamed," Justin insists with a smile. He dips his head in towards the curve of Brian's neck and kisses it tenderly. "You screamed my name at the top of your goddamned lungs, right before you came all over me."

"Right," Brian drawls, eyeing Justin's come-splattered torso with heated fascination. Rolling onto his side, he swoops in close and steals a quick kiss before he breathes in Justin's ear, "You're a filthy fucking mess, aren't you?"

"I was counting on you to clean me up," Justin says, smirking as Brian licks his lips in one long, lascivious swipe of his tongue. "You made the mess, after all." _  
_

Justin groans as Brian suddenly grabs him, wrestles him onto his back, and straddles him. Another kiss is stolen, fleetingly, before Brian pushes Justin flat against the mattress in a most commanding manner. Justin gazes up at him curiously, wondering what will come next. As Brian cups Justin's face in the palm of his hand, Justin tilts his head and kisses Brian's index finger. He whimpers as that same finger is dragged around his jawline, slowly along his jugular, down his chest, gravitating towards the come slicked over his stomach. Justin watches, transfixed, as Brian brings his now-dripping finger to his mouth and licks it clean, staring salaciously at Justin all the while. Then he drops his finger down again, swirls it around and around, and guides it to Justin's lips. They share a sly smile, and then Justin grabs Brian's wrist, licks his fingertip clean, then sucks it into his mouth and fellates it with an intensity that elicits a very aroused growl from Brian.

"Get another condom," Brian orders, his eyes fixed on Justin and utterly ablaze. Justin tries to remain cool, calm, and collected, but that's fucking impossible considering the circumstances, so he ends up scrambling for the condom he stashed under the pillow earlier in the hope that they would need more than one. Brian laughs softly and drops down for another kiss, taking this one a little more slowly. With a moan, Justin sinks into it, losing himself to the delicious sensation of Brian's lips and tongue caressing his own.

His deep immersion in the kiss is only disrupted when he feels Brian rolling the second condom onto his cock. That takes Justin by surprise; when he has Brian, it's normally for one round only. But apparently nothing is 'normal' tonight - that becomes highly evident when Brian rises up, then impales himself on Justin's dick.

Justin hears himself cry out and he can feel his hands grasping at the sheets, but this is all set far away in the background. All he can focus on is how fucking good it feels to have Brian riding him and how impossibly gorgeous Brian looks. They've never fucked like this before; Justin is suddenly inundated by thoughts of: _Why the fuck not? This is so fucking good._ Another excited cry spills from his lips and he grabs Brian's hips, clutching them tightly. He's closer than he should be at this point, but-

"Don't you fucking dare," Brian warns, sliding his hand into Justin's hair and tugging slightly.

"I'm trying," Justin whimpers. "We've never done it like this before."

Brian narrows his eyes and ceases moving. "And we never will again if you come too quickly. In fact, I might just stop altogether. So what's it going to be, Sunshine?"

Justin draws in a breath slowly and carefully, desperately trying to steady himself. It's not easy since he feels like a fucking teenager all over again. He closes his eyes for a moment, since it's much easier to cool off without his gaze trained on Brian's sweat-speckled skin, or his leaking, swollen cock, or his intense, inferno-like gaze. Once he's collected himself, he opens his eyes and urges, "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

Brian's lips curve into a smile that makes Justin tremble with heightened want. Determined to make this last, Justin loosens his grip on Brian's hips and lies back, luxuriating in Brian's every movement. Then there's the sounds pouring from his mouth: deep groans, strings of curse words uttered urgently, and the occasional, thrill-inducing moan of Justin's name. Justin wonders momentarily what Brian enjoys more - fucking himself on Justin's cock, or torturing Justin with how slowly he's taking it. It stands in such stark contrast to their first fuck of the night, which began with them stumbling blindly into the bedroom, kissing passionately, and then crash-landing on the bed in a tangled mess. Justin had imagined taking things slowly and indulging Brian with copious amounts of foreplay, but apparently Brian had different plans. As they pulled back from their furious kissing to disrobe, Brian demanded, "Hurry up and get inside me."

Justin very nearly came then and there. He's so close to coming right now, especially as he replays their first fuck in vivid detail: it was urgent, hard, and fast, bringing them both to the edge quickly and then pushing them over it with brutal intensity. As he recalls Brian's passionate scream, Justin arches up, driving his cock deeper into Brian, making Brian cry out deliciously. The pace accelerates bit by bit, until they're fucking as hard and fast as they were before. It's when Brian leans in for another kiss that Justin loses it - he moans into their joined mouths, exhilerated by his explosive climax. Quite miraculously, he maintains just enough presence of mind to reach for Brian's cock. All it takes is three quick strokes for Brian to come, spilling his load into Justin's hand.

As Brian flops down next to him, Justin removes the condom, tosses it in the waste-basket underneath his nightstand, and grabs a tissue to clean off a bit. He then rolls onto his side and watches Brian intently. Smiling, he comments, "You screamed. Again."

"Yeah, well," Brian replies, somewhat breathlessly. "You're just that good."

He turns his head and grins at Justin. Delighted and deeply satisifed, Justin grins back. He edges closer and presses a soft kiss to Brian's shoulder, just as the oven timer sounds from down the hall. "That'll be dinner."

"Good," Brian murmurs, "I'm starving."

"Me, too."

Justin jumps out of bed and tugs on Brian's robe. Meanwhile, Brian props himself up against the pillows resting against the headboard and suggests lazily, "Bring it in here."

That sounds like a fantastic idea, so Justin does just that. He fetches the dinner and one of the bottles of wine his mother sent as one of her many housewarming gifts, puts Emmett's chocolate tart in the oven to bake, and returns to the bedroom. Brian rouses at the sight of the food and booze, then shifts over to make room. Justin sits next to him and settles against the headboard, propping the tray carrying their meals and drinks atop their legs. He smiles and blushes as Brian kisses his cheek appreciatively.

"This looks fantastic," Brian says, holding the glasses as Justin pours them each a very generous amount of red wine. 

"Dig in," Justin encourages, and they both do, lapsing into a very comfortable silence as they enjoy their dinner in bed.

*

The following Monday, they decide to enjoy dinner elsewhere. Their extremely eventful weekend with Emmett serves to remind them of the world that exists beyond their apartment, and so their passion for New York is reignited. After much deliberation, Justin succeeds in convincing Brian to try his favourite restaurant. It takes some persuasion on his part, since it's an unknown, hole-in-the-wall joint in Chinatown, which doesn't necessarily appeal to Brian's more stylish tastes. Eventually, Justin pleads that  _this places means something to me,_ and Brian quickly relents and agrees to meet up there after their respective days are done. 

As they wait for their meals to arrive, Justin nurses his beer while Brian sips at his whiskey. Swirling the glass, he asks, "So what's so special about this place? Please don't say the decor or I'll have to take you to have your eyesight assessed."

Chuckling, Justin sidles up closer to Brian in the booth. Since this seems quite personal, he lowers his voice and explains softly, "This place always reminded me of you."

Looking bewildered and slightly incensed, Brian asks, "This mostly empty, shabby... _miniscule_ Chinese restaurant reminded you of me?"

"Well, when you put it that way it sounds silly," Justin laughs, nudging Brian.

Brian nudges back and prompts tersely, "Then put it another way."

"Okay," Justin agrees, stealing a quick taste of Brian's drink. "So... I found this place the first week I was here. It was even quieter than this, which was exactly what I was looking for. Plus it was really cheap, so it suited my whole _starving artist_ bit."

Brian snorts. Justin grabs his hand under the table and continues, "At first it was just that the food tasted like the stuff we used to order all the time back in Pittsburgh. But then..."

He trails off briefly, feeling slightly intimidated by how intimate this confession is. Then Brian squeezes his hand, sending a spark of reassurance through Justin. He smiles at Brian and admits, "It kind of reminded me of all the nights we spent in at the loft, just the two of us. I used to love nights like that, just you and me, ordering Chinese food and spending the night all on our own."

A tender smile illuminates Brian's face. He squeezes Justin's hand again and praises laughingly, "Much better."

Justin laughs again and kisses him, only quickly, since the waiter has returned with their food. It looks divine and smells even better; as Justin grabs his chopsticks and poises them to dig in, Brian wraps an arm around his shoulders and says quietly, "I liked those nights, too."

Justin grins at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Brian smiles back. Justin notices a dab of sadness to it, which is quickly explained when Brian says, "I missed them, when you weren't around. You know..."

He trails off for even longer than Justin had, looking kind of uncomfortable. Justin snuggles into his embrace and props his chin on Brian's shoulder, encouraging him to go on. Eventually, Brian does. "When you were with Ethan, I kept on ordering from that place. I got all the same stuff, too. It... reminded me of you."

Brian's confession incites a strange influx of emotions within Justin. There's a sharp stab of guilt, followed by sinking regret, and a strange sense of longing. He grabs Brian's hand again, needing to feel as close to him as possible. Justin is worried that their evening is about to be ruined by this untimely reminder of that awful phase... but then he looks at Brian and sees no real sense of sadness, nor bitterness, nor anything even remotely negative. Sure, Brian's embrace has grown slightly more possessive, but that's a given. Other than that, he seems fine. Justin decides to go with that.

Feigning confusion, he says, "I don't remember an 'Ethan'. I remember an  _Ian."_

There's a split-second where Justin worries that this is the last thing he should _ever_ be joking about, but those worries are quickly assuaged as Brian grins at him, looking immensely pleased and thoroughly amused. Justin grins back and leans in for a kiss, which Brian provides eagerly. It warms Justin through and induces a mild high, the way kissing Brian always does. As they pull apart, Justin finds himself smiling uncontrollably at Brian, and the words quickly fall from his mouth: "I love you."

Brian smiles and kisses Justin's forehead. As Justin nuzzles in close, Brian replies in an elated tone, "I love you, too."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Brian are delighted when Gus comes to visit. Gus is thrilled to discover that their new home is his as well.

"Are you excited?"

It's the world's most unnecessary question. Justin already knows the answer full well - it's absurdly obvious, after all. Brian seems to think so as well; he rolls his eyes, smirks, and pulls Justin close for a kiss. Laughing and nuzzling Brian's nose, Justin says, "I'll take that as a yes."

Of course it's a 'yes', and a resounding 'yes' at that. Justin is very well-versed in how excited Brian is; he has been on a constant high all week in anticipation of Gus' visit. Now that it's imminently due to commence, that enthusiasm has reached new heights. They've been waiting at JFK for upwards of an hour now and arrivals from Toronto have finally started to filter through. Ordinarily, this much time in a packed airport would render both of them grouchy, but Justin is finding that their good moods are infallible. Even being jostled by a huge pack of tourists doesn't put a dent in their cheerful states. They're both too excited and too preoccupied as well. Brian is keeping a keen eye out for Gus, while Justin is keeping a keen eye on Brian. He's transfixing to look at when he's like this - there's a vivid sense of excitement emanating from him which makes him infinitely more gorgeous.

_"Daddy!"_

With that almighty shriek, Justin's attention is torn from Brian and redirected towards Gus, who is bolting towards them. It occurs to Justin that Mel and Linds are nowhere to be seen, but that thought is quickly obscured when he glances at Brian and sees his face light up. There's nothing quite like the thrill that Justin gets at that moment; the cascade of warmth and adoration that illuminates Brian's face is utterly incomparable.

With an even louder shriek, Gus flings himself into his father's waiting arms. Justin watches with a smile as Brian buries his face against Gus' shoulder and cuddles his son with transparent ardor.

"I missed you so much," Gus says, squishing into Brian's embrace happily.

"I missed you more," Brian replies teasingly.

"Nuh-uh," Gus retorts, shaking his head. "I missed you the mostest."

Brian grins and rocks Gus from side to side. Once they're all hugged out, he turns Gus around to face Justin and prompts, "Say hi to Sunshine."

Suddenly reminded that there are people on Earth other than Brian, Gus grins and squeals, "Jus!"

Justin is about to scoop Gus up into his arms when he sees Mel charging towards them, looking absolutely livid. 

 _"Gus,"_  Mel thunders, which instantly sours Gus' mood. He huffs and turns to face her with an outlandish show of reluctance. As Mel approaches, she demands, "What did I tell you about running through the airport?"

Gus rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. "You tell me a lot of things, mommy. You can't expect me to remember every last thing you say."

Mel kneels down next to him and sets her hands on his shoulders. Spelling it out slowly and carefully, she instructs, "You are supposed to hold someone's hand and stay with us. No letting go and  _no_ running off through crowded spaces."

Gus pouts and looks to Brian. "Daddy, don't let her tell me off."

Even though the rest of the airport is bustling with activity, a terrifying hush falls over their little area. Gus continues looking to Brian as though he's the one in charge, while Mel looks utterly appalled. Justin is torn between attempting to mediate or running away and hiding before all hell breaks loose, but then Brian kneels down next to Mel and Gus and says firmly, "Gus, apologise to your mother."

Mel's eyes bug out of her head. Gus looks utterly scandalised. "But  _daddy!"_

"You know the rules," Brian says calmly, "You hold hands and stay close no matter what. Now, it's bad enough that you gave your mom a fright, but now you're being rude to her. Time to apologise, Sonny Boy."

Gus pulls a face and stomps his feet a bit, but eventually spits out, "Sorry, mommy. I won't do it again."

"It's okay," Mel resolves, touching his cheek gently. Still looking slightly perturbed, she smiles at Brian and says, "Thanks."

Brian simply shrugs and replies, "No problem."

As they begin chatting, Gus grins and hurls himself in Justin's general direction. Justin manages to catch him and gathers him up into a big hug. "Hey, buddy."

"They brought J.R.," Gus mumbles, as though this is some great tragedy which is weighing on him greatly. He tilts his head up and gazes at Justin mournfully. "They're  _always_ bringing her places, even when she's too small to enjoy stuff and she ends up ruining everything."

"I bet if they didn't bring her along, she'd miss her big brother." Justin smiles as Gus blushes and beams. Pleased that this exercise in ego-stroking seems to have paid off, Justin hugs him tighter and admits, "I missed you, Gussy. I missed you lots."

Smiling even more brightly, Gus says, "I missed you lots too. I want to see your new house! Daddy said it's his favourite place in the whole world."

"He said that, huh?" Justin diverts his attention from Gus momentarily to grin at Brian. "What else did he say?"

"Well," Gus huffs excitedly. "He told me  _lots_  of things."

As Gus starts running through an exhaustive list, Justin notices a distinct blush creeping up Brian's face. Mel seems to have picked up on it too, if her amused smirk is anything to go by. Meanwhile, Gus rambles and raves without pause. "And he told me something that I had to ask moms about. He said that you made it from a house into a home, which I thought were the same things. But moms said that a house is just a building and that a home is where your heart is."

"That's true," Justin says, kissing Gus' forehead.

"Daddy  _also_ said you had a surprise for me." Gus smiles winningly and pleads, "Can we go now? I want to see the apartment. And I want my surprise."

"In a minute," Mel says. "We have to wait for mommy and J.R., they're still in the restrooms."

The smile vanishes from Gus' face and is replaced by a brooding scowl. Darkly, he mutters, "What did I tell you? She ruins  _everything."_

*

"He's the poster-child for sibling rivalry," Mel says, shaking her head. "Every day there's a new complaint from him about how much of a burden J.R. is. Last time Ben and Michael visited, Gus greeted them with a lecture about how they ought to take responsibility for 'their daughter' and take her back to Pittsburgh 'where she belongs'."

Brian can't help it - he snorts with laughter. It instantly earns him a filthy look from Mel and a slap on the arm from Justin. Fortunately, he's not entirely outnumbered - Linds soon joins him in laughing. She nudges Mel and says, "You have to admit it was kind of funny. Not so much  _what_ he was saying, but  _how_ he was saying it - facing up to Ben and Michael with his hands on his hips and that scowl on his face. He actually looked pretty intimidating."

Mel smiles and nods in concession. "It was pretty impressive. I only wish he'd get over this feud and start treating J.R. like his little sister, and not some great inconvenience that he's being forced to suffer through."

"Isn't that what kids do?" Brian looks pointedly at Justin, who he has recently discovered was the original poster-child for sibling rivalry. "Are you going to 'fess up, or am I going to have to tell them?"

A deep red flush spreads from Justin's collarbone to his hairline. As he narrows his eyes at Brian, Mel perks up and asks, "Tell us what?"

"Does anybody want more coffee?" Justin asks, jumping up abruptly to fetch the pot.

"We're fine," Linds says, taking him by the arm and pulling him back into his seat. Brian smiles at her gratefully. Linds smiles back and prompts, "Go on, tell us."

"Apparently," Brian begins, laughing, "A certain someone tried to get rid of his baby sister."

"What do you mean 'get rid of'?" Linds asks in a horrified hush, her eyes darting worriedly in Justin's direction. Brian is most amused to see Justin blushing even redder and averting his gaze.

"Well-"

Before Brian can continue, Mel raises her hand and implores, "Lower your voice, I don't want you giving Gus any ideas. He's already tried covering J.R. in postage stamps and offering her to the mailman."

"Sunshine did one better," Brian says, smirking as Justin stares sulkily at his cup of coffee. "He facilitated an abduction."

As Mel and Linds' jaws drop, Justin gapes at Brian and retorts, "I did not! That is such a total exaggeration- no, it's worse than that, it's a blatant misrepresentation of what happened."

"I think you'll find that I'm quoting your mother directly." Brian arches an eyebrow at Justin, challenging him to protest any further, but Justin simply scowls at him. Deciding to interpret this as permission to proceed, Brian continues, "To his credit, he orchestrated it masterfully. Jennifer said that if she hadn't been so upset with him, she might have been tempted to commend him. He arranged for Daphne to take Molly away and timed it so impeccably that she actually managed to get halfway down the street with the stroller before anyone noticed what had happened."

"Justin," Linds says in a horrified hush.

"We were young," Justin counters, tossing a quick glare at Brian. "And Daphne wanted a kid sister. I didn't. And  _by the way,_ my mother never tells that story correctly because she refuses to acknowledge that there were two people involved in that scheme. I don't know how I got lumped with all the blame when it was plainly apparent that Daphne was equally culpable. She was the one who wanted a baby sister and she was with me one hundred per cent when ** _we_** hatched that plan."

Brian snorts and gives Justin a look of utter disbelief. Mel shakes her head and teases, "Whatever you say."

Still looking quite disturbed, Linds asks, "You grew out of that though, right?" 

"Of course I grew out of it!" Justin exclaims. "I love Molly... now. It just took me a little while to get on board with the whole big brother/little sister dynamic."

"Someone really loved being the apple of his mommy's eye," Brian says, snickering.

"You love being the apple of my mother's eye," Justin mutters, narrowing his eyes at Brian. "Asshole."

Just as Brian is about to continue sharing scandalous stories of Justin's youth which were gleefully imparted to him by Jennifer during her recent visit, Gus wanders into the kitchen with his head hung low. He raises it slowly, revealing tear-filled eyes and a wobbling lower lip. With his voice trembling, Gus calls timidly, "Justin?"

Before Brian can leap up to tend to his distraught son, Justin beats him to it. Brian watches with admiration as Justin darts towards Gus, kneels down, and asks very gently, "What's the matter, Gussy?"

Gus gulps and pulls his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a paintbrush that's been snapped clean in half. "I stepped on it. I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Justin says soothingly. He pulls Gus close and wipes away the tears that have begun to fall. "It's just a paintbrush. It's my fault for leaving them lying around."

"It's J.R.'s fault," Gus insists stubbornly. "She distracted me."

"Really?" Mel raises her eyebrows at him. "J.R. distracted you? Because last I checked, she was asleep in her playpen."

As she waves the baby monitor at Gus, he scowls. "She's a very noisy sleeper. Anyway, I'm sorry and I'll save my pocket money up to buy you a new one."

"You don't have to do that," Justin assures him, chuckling. "I have plenty more at my studio. You can come see it, if you'd like. We could paint a picture together."

As a smile starts to return to Gus' face, he agrees contentedly, "Okay."

"Okay then." Justin grins. "You know, when I was little, I taught my baby sister how to paint. Maybe after we've painted together you could help J.R. learn how. I bet she could learn a lot from you."

"She is pretty bad at it," Gus muses, sounding most disturbed, "She just splodges paint everywhere and she can't stay inside the lines when she colours and her pictures never make any  _sense."_

Brian swallows a laugh. It seems like Justin is trying to do the same; eventually, with an amused tremor in his voice, he resolves, "Well, we'll both have to help teach her then. How does that sound?"

Looking utterly delighted, Gus proclaims, "Sounds like fun."

Brian steals a quick glance at Mel and Linds, who both seem awestruck. Her eyes wide, Linds observes in a murmur, "That's some progress for you."

"Are you guys done with your coffee yet?" Gus moans wearily. "I want my surprise."

"I want my surprise,  _please,"_ Mel instructs.

"Please," Gus adds hastily. He's even quicker as he jumps at Brian and climbs into his lap. With an utterly disarming smile, Gus requests, "Daddy, please may I have my surprise?"

"Sure thing." Brian sets Gus down carefully and takes his hand. "This way, Sonny Boy."

This is the moment that Brian has been waiting for ever since they found this place. As he leads Gus down the long hallway leading to his bedroom, Brian can feel a light thrum of anticipation building and building. When they reach Gus' bedroom, Brian kneels down and wraps one arm around Gus, then covers his eyes. "No peeking, okay?"

Gus laughs and agrees, "Okay."

Brian reaches for the door knob and twists it open, then swings the door as wide as it will go. Then he uncovers Gus' eyes and whispers in his ear, "Surprise, Sonny Boy."

Gus stares around the room in total amazement. "Is all of this for me?"

"This is your very own room," Brian says, pressing a kiss to his son's cheek. "Sunshine planned it all out and put it together."

"We both did," Justin pipes up, having joined them. He sets his hand on Brian's shoulder and adds, "Your daddy worked really hard on making it perfect, Gussy. We wanted it to be just right."

Brian glances up at Justin, raising one eyebrow dubiously. Though it's true that they both worked on the room, it was Justin who did the lion's share. Brian may have contributed to the planning and purchasing, but he considers that a pittance compared to Justin's contributions. 

As he and Gus gaze around the room, Brian takes it all in: the walls that Justin repainted a lush turquoise ("It's Gus' favourite," Justin explained enthusiastically), the shelves he mounted which are scarcely filled so far ("We should go shopping with Gus and let him choose some things," Justin cleverly suggested, "So he can help to make it his own."), and there's the cozy bedding and the night lights shaped like the moon and stars ("Hopefully he won't get too anxious this way," Justin mused, ever sensitive to Gus' needs). And, of course, there's Brian's favourite detail by far. He suspects that Gus may hold it in similar esteem if the hearts in his eyes are anything to go by. All over the ceiling, Justin has speckled glow-in-the-dark stars, which are matched by a trickle of gold stardust painted in a stream from one corner of the ceiling right down to Gus' toy chest. The room is an absolute vision and Brian wouldn't dare take credit for that. Much like the rest of their home, this room sings of Sunshine's influence.

"It's the best," Gus whispers, his eyes as round as saucers. "Is it all for me? I don't have to share with J.R., do I?"

"You don't have to," Justin confirms. "But we got you the bunk bed just in case you change your mind. Sometimes you might like to have J.R. in here for sleepovers and stuff."

"But I get the top bunk," Gus blurts out insistently. 

Justin laughs and agrees, "That's your right as a big brother. Top bunk is yours, buddy."

Gus pumps his fist and enthuses,  _"Yes!"_

"So you like it?" Brian asks, planting another kiss on Gus' cheek.

"I love it!" Gus turns around and throws his arms around Brian. "Thank you."

"S'okay," Brian murmurs, hugging the kid as close as possible. "I- we want this to be your home too, alright? It'll be ours - you, me, and Justin."

"It already feels like it," Gus mumbles against Brian's shoulder. "It's like moms said."

Brian rocks him a little and asks, "What did your moms say?"

"It's where your heart is."

Even though Gus says this very quietly, like it's a secret to be kept between the three of them, it hits Brian square in the chest and sends him reeling. He has been searching for months now to find a way to describe this place and what it means to him - no,  _them_ , because this place wouldn't be what it is without Justin. And now here it is, described flawlessly by Gus. Brian is taken aback by how fitting a description it is. It's a disorienting feeling at first but, fortunately, he has Gus embracing him and Justin by his side, keeping him steady. Brian kisses Gus' forehead and holds him very close, then meets Justin's gaze and smiles. As Justin smiles back, radiantly so, Brian echoes with utter certainty, "It's where your heart is."

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for the ongoing encouraging feedback. I hope you've enjoyed reading _Ours_ as much as I've enjoyed writing it! This will be the last fic I'll be posting for a while as I have some major work commitments and a family holiday coming up that will take up a lot of my time. I plan to return to writing next year in January. Until then, warm wishes for the holiday season and all the best for a very happy New Year :)


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